Lycoris Recoil : Murakami

Los Angeles, USA.

In the top-floor office of a towering skyscraper, a man sat at his desk, his eyes focused on the screen of his laptop.

The room was dimly lit, the only source of illumination being the soft glow from the monitor.

A soft knock echoed from the door.

"Come in," the man's voice was cold, almost distant.

The door creaked open, and a woman with jet-black hair and piercing red eyes stepped inside.

"What's wrong, Saeko?" the man asked without lifting his gaze.

"I heard you called Ryoma," she replied, her tone calm but sharp. "How is he? How's he handling things over there?"

"He says he's fine. Managing the company in Japan just fine," Masaru answered, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Well, after all, he is our only son," Saeko said with a slight smile. "For the Murakami family, that's to be expected."

"Oh? Is it?" Masaru's voice remained flat, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"That's good, I suppose. At least I don't have to worry about the company going under in Japan."

Saeko elegantly crossed the room, settling onto one of the plush couches with a smooth grace, her legs crossing as she did.

"But he's still too weak," Masaru muttered. "When I was his age, I didn't just manage one company."

"Maybe it's because we weren't keeping an eye on him," Saeko sighed, adjusting her hair. "But I still think he can improve."

Masaru glanced up, his expression unreadable.

"Would you be sad if he died?" he asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air like a chill.

Saeko cast a cold glance at him as he rose from his chair and moved toward the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"If he dies," she said icily, "who will inherit the Murakami legacy?"

"I'm not giving birth again," she replied without hesitation, as if the answer were self-evident. "It hurts."

Masaru gave a slow nod. "You're right."

Japan—inside the Murakami mansion.

Ryoma had just completed assembling a robot when he leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh.

"Ayaka, bring me a soda, would you? I'm dying of thirst," he called out.

Moments later, Ayaka appeared, gracefully carrying a chilled bottle of soda in both hands.

"Of course, young master. Here you are," she said with a refined smile, offering it to him politely.

"Thanks," Ryoma replied, twisting the cap off. He took a sip before continuing,

"The drone recorded the entire Tokyo area yesterday, right?"

"Please convert all the data into a full city layout view."

"I can use that for my next gadget."

"Understood, young master," Ayaka replied with a nod.

She pulled out a compact device from her waist pouch and began inputting the request.

Her fingers moved swiftly and precisely, like a well-trained machine.

As the data processed, she looked up at him. "If I may ask, what are you planning to build next?"

Ryoma leaned back, deep in thought. "Hmm... I'm not exactly sure," he muttered.

"I guess I'll start by uploading the Tokyo route and layout data into the robot mouse I built yesterday."

"So it can spy for me."

Ayaka's eyes lit up with admiration. "That sounds like a fascinating invention," she said.

"I'm sure it will collect information quite effectively."

The clock struck midnight.

"Huh? It's that late already?" Ryoma muttered, blinking at the time. "Didn't even realize."

Ayaka glanced at the clock and gave a small nod. "Yes, it's quite late. You've been working on your project all day, haven't you?"

She turned to him, a faint trace of concern in her eyes. "You should rest, young master. Staying up this late isn't good for your health."

Ryoma scoffed lightly, not even looking up from his work. "You talk like I've never pulled an all-nighter before."

Ayaka let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. "That's exactly why I'm saying this. You really should take better care of yourself."

Clearly, this wasn't the first time she'd had this conversation.

Her voice was gentle, but her gaze remained firm. "I worry about you, young master."

"I'll just—" Ryoma started to move but accidentally elbowed the desk.

The robot mouse on tipped off the edge and hit the floor with a soft clack.

It sprang to life immediately.

"Ah, right... Escape Mode when damaged," Ryoma muttered, watching as the robot darted across the room.

Ayaka's eyes widened in surprise as the small machine zipped between furniture.

"I'll go get it—just a sec!" Ryoma shouted, already giving chase.

"Wait! Young master—!" Ayaka reached out, but he was already halfway out the door, sprinting after the runaway robot mouse.

Ryoma chased the robot mouse down the hallway as it skittered ahead of him, narrowly slipping through the front gate of the mansion.

Just outside, one of the security guards turned at the sound of hurried footsteps. 

"Mr. Ryoma? What's going on?"

"The robot mouse escaped," Ryoma replied, slightly out of breath.

"Oh? Let me handle it," the guard offered, already stepping forward.

"No need. I'll get it myself," Ryoma said firmly.

The guard gave a small nod. "As you wish."

He tapped a device in his hand, and the gate clicked open with a soft mechanical hum.

Ryoma stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against his face. His glasses adjusted automatically, switching to night vision mode.

He had run quite far when, through the faint green-tinted view, Ryoma spotted the robot mouse bumping into a figure standing ahead

His eyes dropped to the robot, then slowly lifted to the man's face.

Red hair. Dark red eyes. A piercing stare.

Ryoma froze, recognition slowly dawning in his expression.

'I've seen this face before...'

The man spoke first, his tone calm but sharp. "Oh? You must be Ryoma Murakami."

Ryoma's eyes narrowed as the name surfaced in his memory. "...Tatsuma."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of the red-haired man's lips. He crossed his arms. "So, you do remember me."

Ryoma's eyes locked onto the man's exposed skin—his arms and neck inked with dark, intricate tattoos.

But it was the one on his throat that froze him in place: a black tiger.

His heart skipped a beat, his father's warning echoed in his mind. 

'If you ever see a man with a black tiger tattoo—run.'

Without hesitation, Ryoma whispered under his breath, "RAT-01… Protocol: Rat's Last Breath."

A second later, the small robot sparked, then detonated with a sharp pop, sending a thick cloud of smoke billowing around Tatsuma's legs.

The moment the smoke obscured the man's form, Ryoma turned on his heel and sprinted into the darkness.

Behind him, a low chuckle cut through the fog. "You really think smoke's gonna stop me?"

The sound of rapid footsteps followed—Tatsuma was already moving, already closing in.

Before Ryoma could react, a powerful force collided into him from behind.

He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of his lungs as Tatsuma pinned him down with crushing weight.

"Get off me!" Ryoma grunted, thrusting a hand upward, fingers aiming for Tatsuma's eyes.

But the man was faster.

With a growl, Tatsuma snatched Ryoma's wrist mid-air and slammed it into the concrete. Pain shot up his arm.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Tatsuma hissed.

Ryoma winced—but he wasn't done.

Using Tatsuma's focus against him, Ryoma twisted his body and drove his knee forward, catching the red-haired man square in the groin.

Tatsuma gasped sharply, eyes wide with pain, before toppling off Ryoma and curling on the ground with a strained groan.

Ryoma didn't wait.

He scrambled to his feet and ran, adrenaline surging, breath ragged. 

"I'm not a fighter," he reminded himself. "I'm a builder."

But he could survive.

Behind him, he heard it again—footsteps pounding the ground.

Gaining. Fast. Breaths like an animal's growl slicing through the cold air.

"Look at you!" Tatsuma called, voice sharp like a blade. "Running like a coward!"

Ryoma's eyes flicked forward, locking on the mansion gate. He shouted a command into his glasses.

"Gate—open!"

With a whir and click, the iron gate slid open just in time.

Ryoma dashed inside and spun around, slamming his palm against his watch.

"Gate—lock."

The doors shut with a thunderous clank—a heartbeat before Tatsuma threw his full weight into them.

BANG!

The metal shook violently. Ryoma stumbled back, panting, staring at the gate as the man beyond it let out a frustrated snarl.

"Damn it!" Tatsuma roared, fists pounding against the locked gate.

Inside the compound, the security guard jolted at the sound. "Mr. Ryoma?!"

"Activate stun mode—now!" Ryoma barked without missing a beat.

The guard didn't hesitate. With a few swift taps on his wrist device, the metallic bars of the gate hummed as currents of electricity surged through them, faint sparks crackling in the air.

Tatsuma instinctively yanked his hands away just before they were seared.

He staggered back, lips curled in frustration. "You little—"

His words trailed off as Ryoma stepped forward, his emerald eyes sharp and unflinching, staring through the gate at him.

Tatsuma stared right back, then gave a low, amused chuckle. "You're an interesting one."

Ryoma's voice was cold. "I don't give a damn about what you think of me."

Tatsuma smirked wider, clearly entertained. "Feisty. Most people would be trembling after a run-in with me."

Ryoma didn't flinch. "Don't you ever step foot near this mansion again."

"Oh, I won't," Tatsuma replied, turning on his heel. "I wasn't here for the mansion. I came for you."

With that cryptic parting shot, Tatsuma disappeared into the shadows, the echo of his boots fading down the street.

The guard approached carefully, still shaken. "Sir… who was that?"

Ryoma exhaled slowly, his pulse still racing. "I don't know. Not yet."

He turned to the guard, voice sharp again. "Starting tonight—8 PM sharp—activate the electric defense mode. Every night. No exceptions."

"But, sir, that will increase the electric—"

"I don't care if the power bill triples," Ryoma interrupted. "I want to make damn sure no strangers get in."

The guard gave a firm nod. "Understood."

Ryoma said nothing more. He turned and walked back into the mansion, the gate humming quietly behind him—still hot with the energy that had almost turned his pursuer into ash.

The moment Ryoma stepped inside the mansion, he didn't speak a word.

His steps were brisk, his breath still uneven from the chase.

He made his way upstairs, his mind replaying every moment like a glitching film reel—smoke, tattoos, red hair, that voice.

At the top of the stairs, Ayaka stood by his bedroom door, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Her eyes widened the second she saw him.

"Young Master," she exhaled, voice trembling with a mix of relief and concern.

"Thank goodness… you're safe."

She hurried toward him, inspecting him closely, her hands brushing lightly over his shoulders and arms.

"Are you hurt? What happened? Did something go wrong while you were chasing the robot mouse?"

Ryoma didn't answer. His eyes looked past her, unfocused.

He brushed by without a word, opened his bedroom door, and stepped inside.

The room was dim and quiet. Too quiet.

He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlocked.

His mind was racing, but nothing made sense. Everything felt… off.

"Ayaka," he said at last, his voice low. "Do you know someone named… Tatsuma?"

Silence.

Ayaka froze.

Her entire posture shifted in an instant—rigid, alert, like she'd been struck. The color drained from her face.

"You… met him?" Her voice was barely above a whisper as she rushed to his side, eyes scanning his face for signs—injury, fear, trauma.

Ryoma glanced sideways at her. "So you really do know him."

Ayaka's breath caught. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the hem of her apron.

"Young Master… what happened? Please, tell me everything."

There was something fragile in her tone—like she was afraid to hear the answer.

Ryoma's voice was flat as he began to recount the encounter.

As the story spilled from his lips—of smoke and escape, of red hair and black tiger tattoos—he watched Ayaka's expression change.

Her face had turned a ghostly shade, and the seriousness in her eyes was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks.

"Young Master, this is more serious than I thought..." she whispered, voice tight with anxiety.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, an unmistakable mix of fear and deep concern.

Ryoma stood there, stoic, but something in his chest tightened at the sight of her unease.

"Can you explain who he is, Ayaka?" Ryoma's tone was sharp, his gaze unwavering as he demanded the answers.

Ayaka took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady herself before speaking, but the words didn't come easily.

"Tatsuma is... the leader of the Yakuza group Kurotora-gumi," she finally said, her voice almost breaking under the weight of the truth.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, desperate. "He definitely wants you, Young Master."

Ryoma's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a slight, detached smile.

"The leader, huh?" he muttered, the realization sinking in.

Ayaka immediately rose to her feet, her posture tense, every muscle in her body radiating anxiety. "Young Master, he already knows your current location."

Ryoma stood straight, his jaw tight, but there was no fear in his expression.

Just a cold determination.

"Starting today," she continued, voice faltering slightly, "I'll have to follow you everywhere, Young Master."

"I can't let him get any closer."

"No, you don't," Ryoma replied firmly, his voice cutting through her words like a blade.

Ayaka froze, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Young Master—" she began, but the sharpness in his gaze silenced her.

Her voice rose with protest, an unmistakable panic slipping through her usually composed demeanor.

"You don't understand!" she argued, her chest rising with each frantic breath.

"Tatsuma is not someone you can just ignore. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants!"

Ayaka's hands reached for him again, but Ryoma, with one sharp motion, stepped back, his eyes like ice.

"You have no right to decide," Ryoma said coldly, his voice full of authority and finality.

His words echoed with the weight of someone who had long outgrown the restrictions of others' control.

It was clear: he wasn't about to be coddled, and he wasn't going to let anyone dictate his actions—not even Ayaka.

Her mouth parted in shock, her body trembling as the reality of his refusal hit her.

But Ryoma didn't budge. His eyes were firm, like steel, refusing to yield.

"You'll follow my orders," he added, his voice lowering but carrying a dangerous edge. "Or you'll stand aside."

She was always there for him, silently watching over him, but this time, something snapped inside her.

She never expected to hear him say something like that.

"Young master, I... I'm just trying to protect you," she said, her voice trembling, the vulnerability in her words betraying the hard edge in her tone.

Ryoma, still defiant, opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she cut him off.

"Ayaka, don't force me into something I don't want," Ryoma's voice was firm, but beneath it, a flicker of uncertainty.

Ayaka's breath hitched. Her eyes blazed with frustration, and her hands balled into fists at her sides.

She never expected to feel so helpless. The words she had kept locked away finally burst out.

"Ryoma Murakami!" she shouted, the sound of his name slicing through the tension.

She could see his surprise, his eyes wide with shock. She had never shouted at him like this before.

"You've been a stubborn person all this time!" Ayaka's voice cracked with emotion, the flood of feelings she had kept inside for so long threatening to overtake her.

"But please! This time! Listen to me!"

Her hands trembled, and for a moment, she faltered, but the fire in her heart refused to die down.

"If you don't want me to follow you everywhere," Ayaka's voice hardened, "at least for the next few days you have to stay in the mansion!"

Her eyes locked with his, fierce and unwavering. "You can't go out!" she demanded, her voice commanding.

Ryoma was stunned by her outburst. It was the first time in so long that he was truly taken aback.

He'd been yelled at before, but this… this was different. Ayaka had always been gentle, ever so careful with him.

Ayaka, equally stunned by her own intensity, stood there panting, her face flushed.

Her hands clenched, and she slowly exhaled, trying to steady herself.

She hadn't meant to snap at him like this, but she couldn't let him continue down this reckless path.

Without another word, she stepped closer, her hands gently grabbing his shoulders, holding him firmly but not roughly. Her eyes softened, though there was still a flicker of urgency in them.

"Young master," she said, her voice quieter, almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." She breathed heavily, her gaze softening with a mixture of guilt and concern.

"But please, you have to understand... Tatsuma is dangerous."

She didn't let go of him, her grip tightening slightly as her worry deepened.

"He won't stop until he gets you. I can't let you go out right now, for your own safety."

Ryoma stayed silent, his mind whirling. He felt a strange mix of frustration, confusion, and something else—something he couldn't quite place.

He wanted to argue, to insist on his independence, but her words sank deep into him.

Slowly, he nodded, a reluctant acceptance in his gaze.

Ayaka's breath steadied as she reached up, gently wiping away the tear that had escaped her eye without her noticing.

She looked at him with raw sincerity, her voice softening.

"Please, young master... I'm just trying to protect you. I'm just worried about you."

Before he could say anything, Ayaka stepped forward, her arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace.

She held him close, not letting go, as if her very touch could shield him from the danger that lurked outside.

Ryoma's heart raced, and he froze for a moment, caught between the tension of the moment and the warmth of her embrace.

Her arms felt steady around him, as if she were grounding him.

For once, Ryoma didn't pull away. Instead, he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the tightness in his chest ease just slightly.

He didn't speak. There were no words left. Only the quiet understanding between them.

Ayaka's soft voice broke the silence once more. "I'll always protect you, Ryoma… no matter what."

A few days later at LycoReco Café, Chisato and Takina were enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the café.

Chisato sipped her coffee while Takina, in her usual cool and composed manner, delicately sipped her tea.

"Hmm…" Chisato murmured, staring down at the personal card Ryoma had handed her.

The door to the café swung open, and instead of a customer, a small, fluffy white cat strutted inside.

"..." Takina blinked. "Did that cat just... walk in?"

Chisato's eyes immediately sparkled. "Oh my gosh, it's so fluffy! Look at that little bowtie! How adorable!"

The cat, wearing a round black hat and a neat bow ribbon, pranced inside with an air of nonchalance.

It gave the café a quick once-over before casually strolling deeper into the café.

Takina, still in disbelief, leaned in to whisper to Chisato. "Why is there a cat just strolling in here?"

"I have no idea," Chisato replied with a huge grin, utterly charmed. She stood up and leaned over the counter.

"Oh, you little fluffball. Where did you come from?"

The cat, without missing a beat, hopped onto the counter and turned around to face Chisato.

Takina couldn't help but inch closer, still skeptical. "It's so calm... I've never seen a cat act this well-behaved."

"Oh, of course," said the cat, its voice surprisingly deep and masculine, the voice came out smooth and casual.

Takina froze, staring at the cat.

"Did… did that cat just speak?"

Chisato's jaw dropped. "No way. Did it—?"

"I'm not a real cat, I'm just a robot," the cat casually said, its voice as nonchalant as if it were discussing the weather.

Chisato and Takina's eyes shot wide open. "A robot!?" they exclaimed in unison, their voices practically identical in pitch, both shocked and confused.

Takina, acting on pure reflex, immediately reached for her gun. Chisato, however, was faster.

She grabbed Takina's arm, stopping her mid-motion. "Wait, wait!" Chisato said, her tone urgent but oddly calm. "I think it's safe."

Takina raised an eyebrow. "Safe?" she repeated, still processing the bizarre information.

"You think a robot cat is safe?"

The cat, for its part, just gave a lazy blink. "You're a cautious woman, huh?" it commented with a grin that was almost too smug for something so fluffy.

Chisato and Takina exchanged a glance. The cat had a point; Takina was the cautious type.

But a robot cat was hardly something you encountered every day.

"So... Do you have a name?" Chisato asked, clearly still trying to make sense of the situation.

"Or should we just call you... Fluff or something?"

The cat tilted its head and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Code name MTCR01. Call me whatever you want," it said, puffing out its chest like it was announcing a stage name.

"Uh… okay," Chisato said, blinking rapidly. "So… um… Fluff? Yeah, let's go with Fluff. Can I ask why you're here?"

The cat didn't respond immediately. Instead, it hopped down from the counter with an elegant flair, sauntering across the room as if it owned the place.

Its little bowtie bobbed with each step.

It walked over to the counter, glanced at the personal card Chisato had left there, and without hesitation, snatched it up with its teeth.

"Hey, wait!" Chisato yelped, holding out a hand as if she could physically stop the cat. "That's not yours!"

But the cat, surprisingly nimble, dodged her grasp and took the card between its tiny robotic paws, chewing on the corner for good measure.

Takina's hand hovered over her gun again, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What are you doing with that card?"

Chisato immediately placed a hand on Takina's arm again, silently signaling her to hold off.

The last thing they needed was a robot cat chase through the café.

The cat, now sitting comfortably on the counter with the card still clutched in its mouth, looked up at them with its deep, unblinking eyes.

It gave an almost smug little smile.

"What's it to you?" it asked, speaking around the card like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Takina sighed, the absurdity of the situation finally catching up with her. "What exactly are you?"

The cat gave them both a slow, deliberate blink. "A cat, obviously," it said, then added, "but also a robot obviously."

The way it emphasized 'obviously' made it sound like they were the ones not getting it.

Chisato, completely thrown off her usual easygoing demeanor, just shook her head.

"I think I need a nap," she muttered, sinking into the nearest chair.

Takina nodded, clearly still on alert, but her posture relaxed just a fraction. "So, do you have a job? Are you spying on us?"

It picked up the card again, clearly more interested in the object than either of them.

Chisato frowned. "You're not getting away with taking that card. It's... uh, important."

Takina raised her hand. "Alright, no more games," she said, drawing her gun once more. "What's going on here?"

The cat casually let go of the card, watching as it fluttered to the ground. "Meet this man. He needs your help."

Chisato and Takina exchanged puzzled glances, their expressions a mixture of confusion and skepticism.

"What kind of help does he need?" Chisato asked, her voice still cautious but tinged with curiosity.

"Just meet him, you'll understand later," Fluff the cat said, clearly not in the mood to elaborate further.

The two women looked at each other, a silent agreement passing between them.

They both shared the same thought—this whole situation was completely bizarre.

"Well, if you say so," Chisato finally said with a shrug, clearly rolling with the absurdity of the moment.

At that moment, Mika came out from the back room, casually strolling into the café.

"Oh? Whose cat is this?" he asked, pointing to Fluff with a curious grin.

"Uh, it just kinda... came in," Chisato said, still trying to process the fact that a robot cat had waltzed in, casually like it belonged there.

Mika didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, he seemed delighted by the sight of the talking cat.

He bent down and began patting Fluff's fluffy head.

"It's quite friendly," Mika said, grinning like he'd just found a new best friend.

Chisato and Takina watched the interaction, their caution still apparent.

"Um... Teach," Chisato said, hesitant. "There's something you should know about the cat."

But as if on cue, the cat's gaze sharpened.

Its eyes, which had been lazily flicking between them, suddenly locked onto Chisato's with an intense, almost threatening focus.

Its pupils flickered, revealing a bold, glowing X-logo.

Chisato froze, feeling a shiver of hesitation creep down her spine.

Fluff was silently warning her. Don't say a word.

She swallowed hard, realizing that Fluff wasn't just a weird, talking cat—there was more to it than that.

"Uh... never mind," Chisato quickly muttered, "It's nothing important."

"Hm?" Mika looked puzzled as the cat suddenly leaped off the counter and landed on Chisato's shoulder with ease.

Chisato instinctively grabbed the cat to stop it from falling.

"Hey, be careful!" she said, slightly amused by the cat's antics.

Mika and Takina watched, both equally curious about the situation.

"Uh... By the way, Takina and I have to go, we... got a mission," Chisato said, trying to keep it casual.

"Oh? Really?" Mika raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Be careful."

"Okay, see you later," Chisato said, with a casual wave, before quickly heading to change.

As soon as they walked toward the back, the cat clung to Chisato's shoulder, refusing to get off.

When Chisato got to the changing room, she paused and looked sharply at the cat.

The cat, caught in the act, quickly turned its head away. But not before Chisato saw it.

She raised an eyebrow and gave it a stern look. "No peeking."

The cat immediately jumped off her shoulder and trotted out of the room, leaving her some privacy.

Chisato finished changing and stepped out, where the cat was waiting just outside the door.

As soon as she stepped out, the cat jumped back onto her shoulder.

"You really like being on my shoulder, huh?" she said, half-amused, half-exasperated.

Takina came out of the changing room just as Chisato was about to leave.

The two of them headed toward the exit, and Chisato made sure to grab the personal card from the counter before they left.

"Okay, follow me," the cat said, looking at them with an expectant expression.

They were still curious about what kind of problem Ryoma was actually facing.

"So what's the problem he's dealing with?" Takina asked.

The cat, still perched comfortably on Chisato's shoulder, replied in his deep voice, "He can't go out right now for... certain reasons."

"Can't go out?" Chisato repeated, blinking in confusion.

"Why? Is he grounded or something?" Takina asked, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't know," the cat answered casually.

"You don't know?" Takina repeated, her tone flat with disbelief.

"And who even are you? Why are you asking us to help him?" she continued.

"I'm his relative," the cat said proudly. "I just don't like seeing him cooped up indoors."

"His relative, huh..." Chisato said, clearly unconvinced but deciding to just roll with it.

It took them quite a while to get to their destination.

"Aren't you two tired?" the cat suddenly asked, stretching lazily. "If I walked this far, I'd collapse."

"We're used to it, don't worry," Chisato replied with a grin.

Takina nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we have stamina."

After what felt like a small trek, they finally arrived at a grand mansion, standing tall and majestic in front of them.

"Wow..." Chisato said, eyes wide. "This place is huge."

"Eh? Where's the cat?" Takina suddenly asked, looking around.

They both glanced around—the robot cat had completely vanished.

"Huh? Where did Fluff go?" Chisato muttered, spinning around in confusion.

From inside the gates, a few guards approached, their faces serious.

"Who are you?" one of them asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

Chisato quickly pulled out the personal card Ryoma had given her and flashed it like a secret agent. "We're here to see Ryoma."

The guard's expression changed instantly. His eyes widened, and he straightened his posture.

"Th-this...! If you have that, then you must be very important guests!"

He hurriedly pressed a button on the nearby post, and with a mechanical whirr, the grand gate began to open.

Chisato and Takina exchanged a glance, slightly puzzled but also relieved.

"Looks like this card is pretty powerful," Takina whispered.

Chisato grinned mischievously. "Feels like we have a VIP pass!"

The guard, now much more polite, motioned them forward. "This way, please. May I ask what business you have here?"

Chisato gave him a bright smile. "We're here to see Ryoma. We have some important matters to talk about."

The guard nodded seriously, as if they were on a top-secret mission, and led them toward the mansion.

As they approached the entrance, they spotted a girl outside, casually sweeping the front steps.

"Hm?" The girl looked up, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! You must be Chisato!"

"And... you are?" She glanced curiously at Takina, who stood neatly beside Chisato.

"My name is Takina Inoue," Takina said politely, giving a small bow. "I'm Chisato's colleague at Café LycoReco."

The girl straightened up, setting her broom aside. "I'm Ayaka Amamiya. Nice to meet you!"

"Ayaka! Is Ryoma home?" Chisato called out brightly, her voice echoing slightly in the spacious front yard.

Ayaka's expression softened into a warm smile. "Yes, the young master is home. Please, come in."

She stepped aside and pulled the grand door open with a practiced grace, motioning for them to enter.

The guard who had escorted them gave a small nod before quietly returning to his post.

Chisato and Takina stepped inside, their footsteps echoing lightly against the polished marble floor.

A mix of awe and curiosity filled them as they took in the interior.

The mansion was something straight out of a magazine—soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and halls lined with art that looked too expensive to even breathe near.

Staff members bustled about smoothly, each moving with a kind of disciplined elegance that felt almost choreographed.

"Wow... this place is incredible," Chisato whispered, her eyes sparkling.

Takina, though less outwardly expressive, was equally impressed, her gaze carefully noting every detail.

As they continued walking, Chisato and Takina couldn't help but notice how the staff members greeted Ayaka with the utmost respect—a quick bow here, a polite smile there.

She's definitely important around here, Chisato thought, feeling a bit like she was walking next to a minor celebrity.

Ayaka led them down a grand hallway, the walls adorned with large paintings and golden trim, until they reached the main hall.

Sitting casually on an oversized, luxurious sofa was a young man—Ryoma.

"Young master," Ayaka called out softly.

Ryoma turned his head at the sound of footsteps and spotted Chisato and Takina standing just behind Ayaka.

He wore a casual navy blue shirt, the top two buttons undone, giving him a relaxed air.

A half-empty cup of coffee rested on the table beside him, and the TV played quietly in the background.

"Oh? Chisato and Takina?" he said with an easy smile. "What brings you two here?"

Takina, ever straightforward, wasted no time. "We heard you needed help," she said, her tone direct and businesslike.

Ayaka blinked in surprise, glancing back at Ryoma. It was clear she hadn't heard anything about this either.

"Excuse me, young master..." Ayaka said carefully. "Is there something going on that I should know about?"

Ryoma stood up, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. "I don't know," he replied simply, then switched off the TV with a casual press of the remote.

"By the way, have you two had breakfast?"

The question was so unexpected that Takina hesitated for a beat.

Chisato, however, beamed and answered without missing a beat. "Not yet! We'd love to join you," she said cheerfully.

Ayaka, caught off guard by the sudden turn of conversation, quickly masked her surprise with professional grace.

"Of course, young master," she said, bowing slightly. "I'll prepare breakfast for the three of you right away."

With that, she disappeared swiftly into the kitchen, leaving the three of them to follow the warm scent of cooking food to the dining room.

When Chisato and Takina entered, they both froze, their eyes widening.

The table was lavishly set with plates stacked high with fluffy pancakes, colorful fruits arranged like artwork, rich omelets, buttery croissants, and even sparkling juices lined neatly in crystal glasses.

"Whoa..." Chisato gasped, her stomach practically growling on cue.

"This... is a breakfast?" Takina muttered, stunned by the sheer luxury before her.

Chisato's eyes sparkled as she took in the spread before her. "This is amazing! Everything looks delicious!"

Takina, sitting next to her, nodded with approval. "Indeed..."

The table was a masterpiece of breakfast cuisine—fluffy pancakes stacked high, crispy bacon sizzling on the side, perfectly poached eggs that seemed to glow, toast piled with a variety of jams and spreads, and fresh fruit arranged like a painter's palette.

A pot of steaming hot coffee sat at the center, its aroma filling the room.

Ayaka soon re-entered the dining room, carrying herself with graceful composure. "Please, help yourselves," she said with a warm smile.

"Thank you!" Chisato replied enthusiastically, grabbing a plate and piling on food like she hadn't eaten in days.

Takina followed suit, carefully selecting some of the dishes to add to her plate.

Ryoma, leaning back slightly in his chair, gestured for Ayaka to leave.

"Ayaka, you can go now. I'd like to chat with them for a while."

"Of course, young master," Ayaka said, bowing slightly before stepping out of the room, leaving the three of them to their own conversation.

As soon as she left, Chisato couldn't help but glance around the room.

Every corner was staffed—maids stood upright, their eyes closed, as if waiting for a signal.

It was like something out of a grand historical drama.

"You really have a lot of servants, huh?" Chisato said, her voice a mix of awe and amusement. "You're like one of those rich people I see in movies."

"What movie?" Ryoma asked, genuinely curious.

"The Heirs' Game. Have you ever watched that?" Chisato replied, before taking a big bite of her food.

"Oh! I've seen it," Ryoma said, his voice casual. "It was pretty fun. I even took pictures and had a meal with the director once."

Chisato nearly choked on her bite, her surprise evident. "Wait... what? You know the director?"

Ryoma just shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever. "Yeah, I've got his contact info."

Takina, who had been quietly eating, let out a soft laugh at Chisato's flabbergasted expression.

Ryoma nodded, clearly unfazed by the astonishment he was causing. "We've hung out a couple of times."

"Wow," Takina said, eyes wide with newfound respect. "You really are well-connected, huh?"

Ryoma just shrugged again, "I guess so."

"So, what brings you guys here?" Ryoma asked, his tone shifting, the earlier casualness fading away.

Chisato quickly swallowed the food in her mouth, Takina following suit as she turned her focus to Ryoma.

"We heard that you need help," Takina said, her eyes meeting his with a steady gaze.

Ryoma raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension.

"A talking cat told us," Chisato responded, a slight edge to her words. "He said you can't go outside and that you need our help."

"Cat robot," Takina interjected, correcting her.

"Cat robots?" Ryoma repeated, his confusion evident, but he quickly shook it off. "Well, anyway, they're right."

Neither Chisato nor Takina expected Ryoma to admit it so readily.

"And why is that?" Chisato asked, her voice low but filled with curiosity.

Ryoma's expression hardened, his eyes steely as he spoke, the seriousness in his tone unmistakable.

"I'm being targeted by a Yakuza group."

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "They want to take me hostage and force my parents to pay up."

His words hung heavy in the air, and there was a noticeable weight in his voice.

"It's a tired story, honestly—every criminal chasing me has the same reason."

"But this group is different," Ryoma added, his voice growing colder.

"They're dangerous. They won't stop at just ransom."

Takina nodded, her face unreadable, but her tone was firm. "That does sound bad."

Ryoma looked at the two of them. "That's why Ayaka keeps me here."

"I'm not allowed to leave, not for my safety." He paused, his gaze drifting momentarily to the window.

"But it's... it's frustrating. Being cooped up like this, day after day."

Chisato's expression softened as she regarded him. "I can imagine how boring that must be," she said, her voice more empathetic now.

"Being confined like this for too long, it'd drive anyone crazy."

"So, I'm asking for your help," Ryoma said, his tone firm as he slid a thick wad of cash onto the table.

"Help me get out of this mansion."

Chisato and Takina exchanged a glance, both taken aback by the large sum of money laid out before them, the sight of it was tempting.

"Help me," Ryoma continued, his grin a mix of both confidence and desperation.

The two women locked eyes again, a silent conversation passing between them.

They didn't need to say much—they both understood the gravity of the request.

After a brief pause, Chisato turned back to Ryoma, her tone resolute. "We'll help."

Ryoma's grin widened slightly, his eyes gleaming with relief.

"Good. Finish your food, and after that, we'll get started," he said before taking another bite.

"Oh, and no need to rush," he added with a smile. "Take your time and enjoy the food—it was prepared with care."

Chisato nodded, her attention already back on the food. The luxurious spread before them was hard to resist, and the comfort of a proper meal was a welcome distraction from the tension in the air.

"This is incredible," Chisato murmured, savoring the taste of her meal.

"I agree," Takina added, her gaze scanning the room, noting the impeccable service.

"The staff here is incredibly attentive."

"Thank you," Ryoma acknowledged, his voice steady but carrying an underlying gratitude.

After finishing their meal, they stood and walked out of the dining room, their footsteps echoing softly in the grand hall.

Chisato and Takina couldn't help but admire the opulence of the mansion as they moved through it.

"Your house is... truly beautiful," Chisato remarked, her eyes drifting over the artwork that adorned the hallway.

Chisato's eyes drifted to one of the paintings hanging on the wall.

It depicted a young Ryoma, standing alongside his parents.

What struck her was the difference—Ryoma's hair in the painting was dark brown, not the blue she'd come to associate with him now.

She lingered on the painting for a few moments longer, then turned her attention back to Ryoma, a subtle curiosity in her gaze.

"You looked different here," she remarked, her finger pointing to the image.

Ryoma arched an eyebrow. "You think I was born with this blue hair?" he asked, his voice laced with an almost amused bitterness.

Chisato let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't expect it to be this dark brown," she admitted, her smile playful.

Before Ryoma could respond, Takina, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "Why do you dye your hair?"

Ryoma's gaze shifted downward for a brief moment, as if weighing his words carefully.

"Rebellion," he muttered under his breath before turning and walking off.

Neither Chisato nor Takina pressed further, both sensing there was more to the story—something Ryoma wasn't ready to share.

They fell into step behind him, their minds quietly racing with questions they knew wouldn't be answered anytime soon.

As Ryoma adjusted his glasses, he casually dialed Ayaka.

The glasses, equipped with a communication feature, hummed softly as the call connected.

Meanwhile, Ayaka was cleaning the guest room when her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen, and upon seeing Ryoma's name, she immediately straightened.

"What do you need, Young Master?" she answered, her voice calm but respectful.

"Come to the garage," Ryoma's voice came through, clear and direct.

Without hesitation, Ayaka stopped what she was doing and swiftly made her way to the garage, obedient to his summons.

As they arrived at the garage, the sleek sports car sat waiting, its polished surface gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

Beside it, Ryoma's sports motorbike stood, ready for action.

Ayaka was already there, her posture tense, as though she'd been waiting for this moment.

Ryoma approached her with a calm but determined expression.

"Ayaka, I'm going out. They've asked to be taken somewhere," he said, his tone casual yet firm.

Ayaka couldn't hide the concern that crept into her voice. "Young Master, you know it's dangerous right now."

Her gaze shifted to Chisato and Takina, who were standing by, their expressions unreadable but their presence unmistakably protective.

"He might still be searching for you," Ayaka added, her worry evident.

Ryoma glanced at her, his eyes serious but unwavering. "When I'm with them, I feel safe," he replied, his voice steady.

Chisato stepped forward, her smile warm and reassuring as she placed a hand on Ayaka's shoulder.

"We'll keep him safe! Trust us!" she said confidently, her words almost carrying an unspoken promise.

Ryoma turned toward the car, then paused to look back at Ayaka.

"And Ayaka," he added, his expression softening slightly. "Don't follow us unless I ask you to."

With a swift motion, he reached up, removing the small tracker attached to his shirt and destroying it with a decisive flick of his wrist.

Ayaka's eyes widened in disbelief. Her heart pounded as she took in the sight of the tracker being destroyed, the weight of the situation sinking in.

"But… Young Master, you—" she protested weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She glanced at Chisato and Takina, who both stood with firm expressions, their resolve clear.

Ayaka felt the weight of her responsibility, but she knew she couldn't stop him.

After a long pause, Ayaka let out a heavy sigh, struggling to find her composure.

"I… I understand," she murmured, her voice quiet, filled with unspoken worry.

Ryoma nodded, his eyes calm and unwavering. "Good."

With a flick of his wrist, he activated the garage door, its mechanical hum filling the silence.

He then walked toward the car and slid into the driver's seat, his movements smooth and practiced.

Chisato and Takina quickly followed, taking their seats in the passenger side.

Chisato rolled down the window and flashed Ayaka a bright smile, the warmth of her expression contrasting with the tension in the air.

"He'll be safe with us!" she called out, her voice full of assurance.

"Isn't that right, Takina?" she asked, glancing back at her companion.

Takina nodded without hesitation. "Yes, we guarantee that," she replied, her tone just as resolute.

Ayaka watched in silence as the car's engine roared to life, the tires squealing as they drove away.

Ayaka stood there for a moment, the weight of the situation heavy on her chest.

She wanted to trust Chisato and Takina—they seemed determined to protect him, and she had to believe that they would keep their word.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she watched the car drive further down the road, its sleek silhouette slowly fading from her view.

"Please, keep him safe," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible, as though the words might carry her hopes with them.

Meanwhile, inside the car, Chisato couldn't help but admire Ryoma's skillful driving.

His hands gripped the wheel with effortless precision as he maneuvered the sports car through the winding road.

"Where are we going first?" Chisato asked, her voice light with curiosity, her gaze drifting out the window.

Ryoma's eyes flicked briefly to the rearview mirror, his calm demeanor shifting to something more focused.

"Let me see..." He paused, then noticed something that made his brows furrow.

A black car was tailing them, moving just a little too closely for comfort.

"Wait, there's a car following us," Takina said, her voice calm but tinged with a sense of alertness.

Chisato leaned forward, glancing into the rearview mirror.

Her sharp eyes caught sight of the black car that had been keeping a steady distance, but now it seemed to be inching closer, as if preparing to close in.

"Alright," Ryoma said, his voice taking on a more calculated tone. "Let's start by making them nauseous."

He pressed a button on the screen near the steering wheel, and the car's systems shifted into high alert.

The seatbelts around Chisato and Takina suddenly tightened, holding them in place, while Ryoma's own belt adjusted as well.

"Woah!" Chisato gasped, her breath catching as the seatbelt constricted around her.

Takina gripped the handle above her door, her body instinctively bracing for whatever was coming next.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice sharp with a mix of confusion and concern.

"We're going to speed up. Prepare yourselves," Ryoma said, his eyes never leaving the road as he pressed another button on the dashboard.

In an instant, the car surged forward with an incredible burst of speed, the world outside blurring into streaks of color.

Chisato and Takina gasped in shock, their bodies pressed back into the seats as the car shot down the road at an astonishing pace.

"This is a car created by Murakami Tech," Ryoma explained, his voice steady and confident despite the rush of the moment. "It's not an ordinary car."

As the sports car zoomed ahead, the black car behind them struggled to keep up, swerving slightly in an attempt to maintain speed.

"Hold on tight," Ryoma muttered under his breath, his eyes now scanning the road ahead for any obstacles.

Takina couldn't help but be impressed by the car's remarkable features.

"This car is amazing…" she said, her voice filled with admiration.

Ryoma, his expression focused, finally deactivated the speed mode.

The car gradually slowed, its powerful engine humming down to a more controlled pace.

Chisato, ever observant, glanced back and noticed the black car no longer trailing them.

A grin spread across her face. "Looks like we've lost them," she said, the relief in her voice clear.

But as if on cue, Ryoma's eyes narrowed. "Tch," he muttered under his breath.

The black car had reappeared, closing the distance once again.

The road ahead had become more congested, full of traffic that made it difficult for him to push the car to its limits.

"Looks like they're persistent," Chisato remarked, her gaze shifting to the rearview mirror.

But then the danger escalated. People inside the black car opened fire, bullets striking the side of their vehicle with sharp cracks.

"They're catching up!" Chisato shouted, her hand instinctively reaching out to tap Ryoma's shoulder.

"We need to lose them again."

Ryoma didn't respond verbally. Instead, his fingers moved swiftly over the controls, a calm but decisive expression on his face.

"Ryoma!" Takina called out suddenly, her voice laced with urgency. "Take off this seatbelt!"

Ryoma's hand flicked to the screen again, and in an instant, Takina's seatbelt released with a soft click.

Without hesitation, Takina half-leaped out of the window, steadying herself with one hand while drawing her gun with the other.

In a fluid motion, she aimed and fired. The bullet hit the black car's front tire, sending it spinning out of control as the vehicle veered off the road and into a nearby ditch.

The car erupted in a cloud of dust, crashing into the earth with a heavy thud.

"We did it!" Chisato cheered, her voice full of awe as she watched the black car skid to a halt.

"But that draws way too much attention!"

Ryoma didn't seem concerned. "It's okay, I can cover the loss later," he said with a casual shrug, his tone completely unaffected by the chaos around them.

He accelerated once again, the car's engine roaring to life as they sped away from the scene, leaving the wreckage behind.

"That was close," Chisato breathed, her eyes still glued to the rearview mirror, watching for any sign of more trouble.

The seat belts that had once held them tightly now loosened, their previous grip now a distant memory.

Takina, who had been leaning forward for the majority of the ride, finally settled back into her seat.

"That was quite an intense car chase," she remarked.

Ryoma, his hands casually gripping the wheel, turned to look at them, a curious glint in his eyes.

"You two..." He trailed off, his gaze focused. "Who are you, actually?"

Chisato and Takina exchanged a quick glance. They had been expecting this question—it was inevitable.

Two girls, each carrying guns, each skilled in shooting.

It wasn't something ordinary people would overlook.

They knew they couldn't keep up the facade much longer.

And even if they tried, Ryoma, with his connections, could probably uncover the truth sooner or later.

Takina exhaled softly, her eyes meeting Ryoma's with an unwavering calm.

"We are Lycoris," she said, the words coming out more easily than she expected.

Ryoma's eyebrows shot up, his expression one of surprise.

"Lycoris?" He repeated, as if the term was unfamiliar to him.

He glanced between the two, his curiosity piqued.

Chisato, sensing the need to explain, leaned forward slightly.

"Lycoris is… well, it's a secret government force," she began, her tone measured but firm.

"A group of girls trained to protect Japan, but from behind the scenes."

"We eliminate threats quietly, without drawing attention."

Takina continued, her voice steady and serious. "We were raised and trained from a very young age."

"We live among ordinary people, posing as students, but our true job is to protect them from things they'll never know about—terrorists, criminals, dangerous individuals."

Ryoma's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he absorbed her words.

He was silent for a moment, processing the gravity of their revelation.

"But it's not just a job," Chisato added, her voice softening slightly.

"It's about keeping people safe, even if they never realize we exist."

"Our mission is to protect the peace, even in the shadows."

"I see," he murmured, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Smiles on the outside, blood on your hands?"

Chisato chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Maybe. But I chose a different path."

"I refuse to kill." Her words were firm, her resolve clear.

"Is that so?" Ryoma nodded, he seemed calm after hearing all that.

"You're not surprised by this?" Takina asked, raising an eyebrow at Ryoma's calm demeanor.

Ryoma shrugged, his voice steady. "A lot of surprising things have happened in my life."

Chisato couldn't help but smile at his response, feeling a little reassured by how unfazed he was.

"Seems like you've had quite the ride in your short life," she said with a playful tone, her curiosity piqued.

Ryoma glanced at her, then back at the road. "So, you guys must get some interesting missions, huh?"

Takina nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Our missions come from an organization called Direct Attack."

Ryoma's eyes glinted with interest. "Will you accept missions from outsiders, though?"

Chisato thought for a moment before answering, her tone light. "If it's a mission... probably not."

She paused, then added with a bright smile, "But we do like helping people, you know?"

Ryoma pulled the car to a stop, his expression thoughtful. "Oh, I see," he said with a grin. "Then, how about helping me?"

Takina glanced at him, intrigued. "What exactly do you need help with?" she asked, a little skeptical but also curious.

"A Yakuza group called Kurotora-gumi is targeting me," Ryoma said, his voice calm but with a hint of seriousness.

He glanced at the rearview mirror as he spoke, a quiet unease settling in.

Chisato and Takina exchanged a surprised look. Takina, ever the practical one, was the first to speak up.

"How long will they keep chasing you?" she asked, her tone steady, though her curiosity was clear.

"As long as I'm alive," Ryoma answered flatly, his gaze never leaving the road.

Takina thought for a moment, processing his words. "I see..." she murmured, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered their next move.

Before the silence could stretch any longer, Chisato's voice cut through the air with her usual enthusiasm. "But hey!"

Ryoma turned to look at her, unsure of what to expect next.

"I don't like bullies," Chisato said, her tone upbeat but with an underlying edge of determination.

"If they're really after you, I guess we don't have much choice but to help, right?"

Ryoma couldn't help but smile at her sudden resolve.

His shoulders relaxed, a weight he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying lifting slightly.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'll make it up to you."

Chisato grinned widely, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"And next time, don't forget the snacks! Bodyguard work makes me hungry!"

"Okay, okay, I'll buy you as much as you want," Ryoma said, his grin growing even bigger.

A playful air settled over the car, and Ryoma leaned back in his seat. "While I'm allowed to go out, where do you guys want to go? It's on me."

Chisato's smile stretched even wider, practically glowing with excitement.

"Oh! Oh! I know the perfect place!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat.

"The place we talked about yesterday, right, Takina?" she added, glancing over at her companion.

"Ah, yes, it's a nice place," Takina agreed, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

"Can you show me the location?" Ryoma asked, his curiosity piqued.

Chisato quickly pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons before showing him the screen.

"Here," she said, holding it out for him to see. "This is the place."

Ryoma glanced at the location on his phone and recognized it immediately.

"Alright, do you guys want to drive slowly or fast?"

He took out his phone as he spoke. "I'm free until whenever, so it's up to you."

Takina, looking out the window, replied without hesitation. "The place isn't that far, so I guess slow is fine."

Chisato's eyes widened. "Eh? What if we run out of food there?!" she asked, her voice a mix of mock worry and excitement.

Ryoma smirked, tapping a few buttons on his phone before hanging up.

"Don't worry, I've already booked the whole place."

Chisato froze for a moment, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

"The. Whole. Place. Seriously?!" she asked, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Ryoma gave a nonchalant nod. "Yeah, because I don't want to buy the place—I don't have time to manage it."

Takina and Chisato exchanged a glance, both of them taken aback by the sheer scale of it all.

"Rich people really are something else..." Chisato muttered, half-amused, half-impressed.

With a casual flick of his finger, Ryoma pressed a button, and the roof of the car began to slide open. The wind rushed in, tousling their hair.

"Fresher?" Ryoma asked, a playful edge to his voice.

Chisato let out a delighted laugh, while Takina simply smiled, her usual stoic expression softening.

"Much better!" Chisato exclaimed, her eyes closing in contentment as the wind whipped around them.

"Yes," Takina agreed, her voice calm yet approving.

With the wind in their hair and the open road ahead, the three of them headed toward the place Chisato had recommended, the mood light and carefree as they enjoyed the ride.

Elsewhere, Tatsuma sat alone at the bar, the dim light casting long shadows across his face.

He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a casual air.

The door slammed open, and a group of men rushed in, their faces etched with panic.

One of them, gasping for breath, barely managed to speak through his fear.

"Boss! They beat us! And that kid, Ryoma—he's got some kind of incredible bodyguard!"

Tatsuma didn't even flinch. His gaze remained fixed on the half-empty glass in front of him.

The silence stretched for a moment, thick with tension.

He let the weight of his words hang in the air before he spoke, his voice low and chilling.

"And you dare to speak so boldly," Tatsuma said, his tone cutting through the room like a blade, "with no sense of guilt in your spine?"

The men recoiled, their faces pale with dread. They immediately dropped to their knees, bowing their heads, their voices shaking in unison.

"Forgive us, Boss! We'll fix this! Please!"

Without a word, Tatsuma stood up. His footsteps were measured and deliberate as he approached them.

He grabbed his beer, and with a sudden, almost cruel swipe, poured it over their heads.

The cold liquid splashed against their hair and necks, but it was the weight of his stare that truly crushed them.

"Don't worry," Tatsuma's voice was colder than ice, each syllable laced with menace, "Sooner or later, we'll get him. Ryoma…"

"That Murakami kid..."